Underneath a Moonlit Sky
by Beatrice B
Summary: Based on the 2004 version as well as some of Love Never dies, Just to let you know I don't really know where things are going at this point but come along and see okay? - Andrew lloyd webber owns it I don't
1. Roses

Roses

It had been a week since the opera populaire burned down. A week since the phantom had fled. It had been a week since I received that last rose. I was on the balcony of the church. I clutched the edge of the stone railing. I had started to feel confused and unsure... had I made the right choice. When I saw Madame Giry walk down the lane towards our house. Plastering on a fake smile I daintily walked from the balcony through side rooms, and writing rooms, living rooms and hallways. Through doorways and libraries; and even a small music room till finally I managed to get to the door.( She is wearing this outfit /pin/232709505715793885/ and she has this hair style /pin/232709505716020749/ if you don't want to look them up then she has wavy hair with curly ends and her dress is blue with a bow about knee length which would have been considered scandalous but I can see her wearing it — the dress is baby blue.)

The streetlamp at the end of the lane flickered in the wind. The darkness felt so inviting. I strolled out to meet Mrs. Giry, I wonder what was the matter. She had a stone face and in her hands I saw a rose with a black tie around it. "Mrs. De Chagny I have a letter for you too. Christine, before you open it you should know he... " I take the rose. It feels soft, he must have carved the thorns away like he always does. I can't bear to read it. She nods and goes back up the lane. I walk the path back inside with the letter unopened. It smells like a rose should smell. I reach the door to the house we are to have together and smile despite myself. I will open the letter later tonight. Once Raul has gone to bed. I couldn't bear to have him know if I am not going through with this.

Later that night

"Goodnight Raul Darling," He kissed me on the forehead and I got up out of bed. ( No they were not doing anything they were talking! Such Dirty minds! After all she hasn't become Mrs. De Chagny yet.) The library was right outside our bedroom, I took the letter from my cloak pocket and sat at the desk. The lantern lit the desk. With shaking hands I opened the letter :

_Dear Christine Deaae,_

_ If you want to see me again _

_Want to let me at least be your teacher... please at least give me that!_

_Come find me at a showing of Amor and Psyche I will be in box 5_

_Signed: **O. G.  
**_

The fire from the lantern flickered against the rose's petals. It was a real thing of beauty the rose was. People all over the world used it to express their love for one another... even Erik favored it over all other flowers. I ran my hands along the cool green stem. No thorns, they seemed to all have gone up into my heart. Her poor Erik. **_She must attend, and there is no other option. _**


	2. Angelic Demon

Angelic Demon

The darkness outside looked so tranquil, I will have to get up. I have a long day ahead of me. I wonder if he has changed. Did I just snort? Hmm? I must get clean for him. I slipped off my nightgown and reached for the new invention... it probably would in time become affordable to the average frenchman. As for now I could bathe in peace. I felt a sudden urge to sing bubble up into my lungs and then my throat. It tickled, I must not sing... I have too much too do. I rubbed myself raw, my delicate creamy skin became red with the amount of scrubbing. I took the soap and made sure my hair was clean and lush. By the time I was done the sun had just started to rise.

With a cloth around my body, I walked from the bathe house area through the bedroom, and down the hall to my closet.

An Hour Before the Meeting

( /pin/232709505716026486/ is the dress it is green and has black trim with a nice necklace) I rush down and find some shoes they are pale white I grab them and ( they look like this /pin/232709505716026521/ they are beaded and have bows on them) Rushing now, I have the rose in my hand and it feels like I am going to vomit or do a flip I am not sure which? My hair waterfalls in curls, I don't know how I am going the manage —this. Taking A deep Breath I hail a rider and only once I have sat down and the cart is moving with the footfalls of the horse do I notice the stranger sitting next to me.

He oozes sexuality, he has his face turned from me... Who could he be? Could this man be my Erik? He doesn't appear to... oh my... his voice it can't be it IS! His white mask covers half of his face.( Think Gerard Butler everyone — sorry if you don't want an attractive phantom but I do, on a side note... the phantom is supposed to be physically unattractive so I am going to really have the grossness factor up on the side of his face other than that he will be totally sexy) It hugs his frame, his cravat is a little askew, I yourn to fix it and make it right... I yourn to touch him, do I dare? His suit is black with a black undershirt - OH ERIK, his breathing picks up speed... we don't appear to be heading into the city. We seem to be heading towards a field. Many ladies and Gentleman are gathered sitting on makeshift cloths. It was somewhat amusing. High society nobles getting dirty! He sang softly to me, so very softly. His silky voice so breathy and light. How could I ever think Raul could replace my angel?

_**Erik :It has been too long**_

( When he sings long he holds it)

_**My dear**_

( He pauses)

_**Too long since I have heard you sing**_

(When he sings have his voice dips a little and when he sings sing it rises up even more. )

_**One whole week**_

_**Seems far too long**_

_**Don't you think**_

( He says all that in one breath and pauses)

_**That is why you and I**_

_**Will be playing the parts**_

_**I made sure-**_

His smooth voice floated in an intoxicated inducing waves towards my ears. Finally I could no longer stop myself from replying to his symphonic voice. I place my hand upon his shoulder and he gave me a smoldering look like I was a piece of meat he wanted to devour. I actually didn't mind. I sang out for him in my soprano voice:

_**Christine : Are all of these people waiting for us?**_

_**All of these people**_

(She repeats all of these people softly )

_**Do they know who you** **are,**_

(When she sings are it is a high note and she holds it while looking at him questioningly?)

_**Angel what have you done?**_

(Her voice rises in volume as she gets more upset)

_**Was this just a ploy **_

_**A plot**_

_**To lure me unaware**_

He looks pained that I would suggest such a thing. He grabs me on the nape of my neck... I think I might have squeaked. In a whisper he sings to me, his face so close we must look like we are kissing. With that thought, I feel my face grow warm.

_**I was never your angel**_

_**I deceived you**_

( his voice is now dangerously low)

_**Christine: You are my Angelic Demon**_

_**Please forgive me?**_

_**Let me be your student once more**_

(She holds the word more.)

Never have I been so bold. I close the gap between our lips. He is shocked for someone to be touching him. He doesn't know what to do... just like last time. I bring him closer to me, and that is when I feel it. His hands rest on my shoulders. It is becoming hard to breathe but I don't want to stop. He holds my hair. I start to pull away for some air but he grabs my chin and holds it. Raul's kisses never felt like this. They never left me aching for more. They never left my body starved for an unknown something. I feel a knot forming in my abdomen what the hell is that. He pulls away from me and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. It feels scratchy from use. I think someone has been looking at us this whole time how embarrassing. His lips are red and I want to go back for more but he grins at me and says.

"We aren't really going to be Amos and Psyche... Apparently the critics liked my opera, which is surprising after I went mad and burned down the place eh? If you would join me in reprising our roles once more? Your Demonic Angel welcomes the chance to... Make your bud bloom. Maybe in the future we can experience the melody for ourselves." At this point I am flushed. He really knows how to get me all bothered. He whispered into my ear " I have made a couple changes, I hope you don't mind. I think we should have more... Fun... this time around." He kisses my forehead and we get out of the coach.

He is an angelic demon. My angel. My demon. I am sorry Raul, you are just inadequate with my needs, you don't get me flushed or sweaty, kissing you is like kissing an old sock. I am staying with him and thats final.


	3. Don Juan Light in the Darkness

Don Juan Triumphant / Light in the Darkness

It is raining so hard right now guys, it is thundering really bad so I am doing this in the basement.

The people stared as the cabin doors opened. She could see faintly pamphlets in the laps of each person. They light from the lanterns on the ground made the atmosphere so much more intense and seductive then it was in the opera house. I fiercely whispered " No one knows what you did, who you are right?" He whispered back, " They know I wrote the opera but they don't know that I am the same person who set fire to my opera house. I miss that place." People stared and whispered while craning their necks at us. I felt like I was in a sideshow.

The stage looked beautifully designed, like it was made from the finest wood with silk curtains that hung. It even had a little divot in it with a collapsable dressing room. I looked back into his eyes and I could see pride as he looked at the stage. It gave me a feeling that he more than likely had designed it. How he made that masterpiece in a week I'll never know. The curtains were blood red. I rushed to put on my Amanita Costume. I could hear people talking outside. I slipped back into the role it seems fate would love me to play. So I shall. I shall light up his darkness. I will be his saving grace and drag him out of Hell, if it kills me I will make him happy. Just as I finish putting on the costume, my Don Juan enters... he really should have knocked. He places a rose in my hair and I hadn't even noticed he had changed, how does he do it? I guess some mysteries need to be left for another day.( If you have seen the 2004 movie then that is what the outfits look like... if you haven't just google Phantom of the opera 2004 movie past the point of no return or something of that variation.) The curtain lifts and the Phantoms opera is just beginning. Most of the candles in the lanterns are put out but a few remain to hold back the inky blackness. I feel my insides do a summersault and then I feel the drug of opera, of singing flood my head with confidence. Everyone has stopped talking and the conductor starts to signal the instruments.

(It actually starts out in a graveyard so she will be wearing a black dress with red roses in her hands like christine wore in wishing you were here again and it has gravestones with a statue of an angel and painting of an old man. The backdrop is a blue sky with marionette bluejays. Her rose is black by the way not like red in the last scene of it.)

I just think of my father, and I start to tear up a little, hoping for the proper look. With a deep breath I walk on stage. I walk through the descending statues and rising tombstones on stage.

_**Christine: I never seem to stop dreaming.**_

I feel a burning behind my eyes, a pain just like before. I slowly walk towards the painting of the old man. He is middle aged. Just like my father was when he died.

_**The expectation that you will walk through the door once again.**_

(Her voice rises when she says expectation and she starts to choke on her words half way through the sentence.) I place the roses down near the picture of the old man and know I might ruin the performance if I don't get my emotions under control. This was the scene, the beginning I hated the most. I turn towards the crowd with a look of pain carved upon my face. An arch descends to the sides of me and I sit sideways with my head turned toward the audience.

_**My friend, My father; where is your Angel now?**_

(She pauses after friend, and after father. Her voice rises at the end of the question.) My head turns toward the angel in the back. The fake stone looks so real.

_**Only when I close my eyes, are we together once more.**_

My head turns to the side and I close my eyes tight to stop the tears from reaching my cheeks. (she pauses after eyes and more her voice is starting to regain strength)

_**You stroke my cheek, and tell me how proud are of your little girl.**_

_**I am not little anymore.**_

(She stretches I am not little anymore till she has to draw breath again.)I start to stand up and face the crowd.

_**For so many years these tears have gone unshed.**_

(Her voice rises in volume and these tears have gone unshed is louder than the rest of the sentence.) At this point I can't hold back my tears and after this next line I will let them flow.

_**So this is goodbye, for now. Maybe in another life we'll meet again. Who knows how things might end?**_

(This line is the loudest of all the others so far) Tears start falling one by one and I can't stop them. I feel my heart seizing up like I have a huge hole ripped inside to my very core. I want this scene to be over with.

_**You lit up the darkness of the world, but that light in you dimmed and now is no more.**_

(She sings in a stage whisper now which is like whisper screaming)

I see the audience's gazes on me, some of them are glassy eyed. One teenager has her arm around a babe and seems to be unable to stop crying. Maybe she has lost her father too. One old lady is stone faced, the only one with a dry eye. She is a bag of bones in an unfashionable bird hat. I hear the symphony wailing in the background and the sobs of the teenage girl are growing louder, I can hear her slightly over the symphony. I want to make her feel better. I walk back towards the angel and the painting of the old man. I can smell the grass and the spring air starts to calm my crying. The snot in my mouth tastes horrible. Taking a deep breath I let the symphony play their small piece. It wafts up into my ears and calms me. Erik's music calms me. It calmed the teenager too. She is starting to only whimper.

_**Now you exist only as my memory, along with the blood that flows through these veins.**_

(Her voice arches up into high notes on memory and on veins.) I kneel down next to the painting and sing the last haunting lines of the scene.

_**Goodbye, light of the darkness. Goodbye, the candle in the night, may your rest be peaceful, sleep tight.**_

(Her voice is soft and trance like — and yet you can hear her from 50 feet away. Darkness and night dip lower in sound and peaceful and tight are extremely high notes.)


End file.
